Obedience
by 2014clb
Summary: Modern Day E/C - Christine is taken and forced into a new life with her dark and violent captor. It is not enough for him to possess her physically, he aims to control every piece of her.
1. Chapter 1

A faint snore drifted into the small kitchen from the living room, and Christine smiled to herself as she cleaned the dishes. The clock on the stove read 9:30, but Mama Valerius was already asleep.

Soft-footsteps padded into the living room, "Come to bed Mama," Christine whispered to the eighty-nine year old woman napping in an overstuffed chair.

"Of course dear," Mama Valerius yawned, "I was just resting my eyes."

Christine nodded affirming the older woman's white lie while she helped Mama to her feet. As Mama Valerius shuffled off down the worn carpet hallway, Christine herself stifled back a yawn. Working at the bakery all day had left it's toll on her slight frame, she stooped over slightly from the exhaustion of beginning her day at 4:30 am and not having a moment to herself since then. She had been working 4:30 am to 8 pm all week. Rent was due soon, and Mama needed to go to the doctor for her flu shot. Rubbing her temples, Christine collapsed into the chair. Ever since she had graduated high school two years ago Christine had done nothing but work. Her dream had been college, but that wasn't an option. Papa had died six years ago, while he left her with his gift of music, he had also left her with all his debts. Mama Valerius had taken her in and helped for several years, but the woman was beyond working years. So Christine has put her dreams aside to take care of Mama and pay off the debts. A sigh escaped her lips as Christine thought about waking up again at 4:30 tomorrow. Lifting herself off the chair, Christine headed down the hallway to her room and changed into her pajamas, a faded _Atlanta 1996 Olympics!_ shirt. Drained, she crawled into her twin bed relishing the chance to lay down. The bed squealed as she shifted to her side, pushing her long curls over her shoulder. A soft quietness settled throughout the room, and Christine began her nightly ritual of praying for her father to watch over her. Soon soft breaths filled the room as she fell asleep.

—

At 2:06 AM a masked man sat in a car across the street from a dilapidated apartment building on the south side of the city. A wrist watch ticking faintly was the only sound. _tick-tick-tick_. There was an energy about the man, not a nervous one, but more so of faint excitement. One could compare it to a jaguar hiding in the brush, waiting, for its prey to be caught. When the watch ticked to 2:10 AM this man excited his vehicle and slipped into the darkness of the night. If anyone had seen him perhaps they would note how he seemed to glide as he walked, but perhaps the most interesting thing a person would notice were his amber eyes that burned behind a black mask. A lock clicked, such a faint sound no one would hear it, and the man entered an apartment. Down the hallway, second door on the left, a girl lay sleeping. She was awoken by a handkerchief being held over her mouth and nose. The adrenaline rushed as her hands flailed to grasp her assailant, but within seconds she went limp. A gloved hand brushed her face, pushing the light brown strands to the side. Swiftly, she was scooped up and gone. The man had no intention of her ever returning to that apartment again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The low prowl of an engine hummed silently in the night air suspended. A man glanced at the form sprawled in the passenger seat. A small smile tugged at his lips and his swift fingers dared to brush against Christine's cheek. He finally released a breathe had not realized he was holding. _Perfection_ was the only thought in his head as he took in the sight of Christine sedated in his passenger seat. He deftly shifted the sleek black car into drive and sped off silently into the night weaving through the dilapidated streets of downtown. The clock read 2:21 AM.

—

Pulling onto the tarmac, the midnight black Audi blended into the darkness of the night. The man glided out of the car and unbuckled Christine's seatbelt. He gently scooped her up into his arms and felt a deep sense of joy at the human contact he was experiencing. A small part of him thought of whether Christine would so welcome his touch when she was conscious; however, he quickly pushed this thought out of his mind determined to enjoy the soft heat radiating from her form the her sweet scent of lemon as he carried her aboard a private plane. A small cabin fit with cream leather seats and refreshments greeted the man inside, and he laid Christine down in the lounging area. Marching to the cockpit the man alerted the captain that takeoff preparations may begin. Returning to the brightly lit cabin, the man slid into the buttery leather of a seat opposite of Christine and shrugged off black overcoat and scarf, the richness of the material visible to the eye. Regardless of the hour the man did not sleep, he pulled out a small tablet and began typing on it and attending to business. At 3:12 AM a small plane lifted off the tarmac into the night sky and as the world below shrunk and disappeared so did everything Christine Daaé had ever known.

 **—**

Christine woke up with a headache. She buried her face in her pillow wanting to deny the morning. A sense of dread filled her body as realized her alarm had not gone off and she was late for work. As adrenaline immediately flooded her veins, she sat up to hurry out of bed; however, when Christine looked up what she saw was not her worn and comfortable room at Mama Valerius'. Her pale pink walls were replaced with cream colored walls, the faded baby blue comforter she had fallen asleep under was royal blue and elegantly designed, the small twin that creaked every time she moved was not what she sat on, instead it was a king bed that felt too impossibly soft with mounds of pillows on it. She stared in disbelief at this lavishly decorated victorian themed room around her. Massive white wooden doors were closed to the side and Christine rose from the bed and walked to them as if in a trance, her small feet hitting the marble floors beneath her silently. As Christine pulled on the handles she realized they were locked. Confusion swept through her small frame. Christine quickly scanned the room, a huge fireplace occupied the wall opposite of her bed with what appeared to be a framed Monet above it. Huge windows graced the far wall which Christine hurriedly walked to. Outside the window was a huge garden with massive hedges and fountains while off in the distance stood a thick forest as far as she could see. Christine could tell she was on the second story of whomever's home this was. She continued to stand at the window caught in a haze when she saw movement in the garden, a man was trimming the hedges. Christine immediately started banging on the window hoping to catch the man's attention; however, it seemed as if he could not hear a thing and continued to trim. The windows did not open and she began to grow slightly frantic. Was she to die in this room? The garden started walking to the left and disappearing from view. Racing down the windows still banging Christine came to the door at the wall next to the windows and tugged the doorknob which gracefully opened. She hurried into the room searching for more windows. There was one medium window above a massive marble tub. Christine stopped in her tracks and took in the massive white marble bathroom around her polished elegantly with silver accents, there was a walk in shower, a sink surrounded by a large countertop and cabinets, and a toilet in addition to the large tub in the corner near the sink there was another cracked door. Christine hesitantly walked forward her small hands gliding over the counters. Never in her life had Christine been surrounded by such finery. The thought that perhaps one of the cabinets held something to open the double doors near her bed intrigued her. Christine quickly opened a draw and prepared to rifle through it. However, upon opening the drawer Christine found an exquisite brush set made in silver with a large C carved into the top. _Someone made these for me_. Her heart made a quick leap of surprise and fascination at this discovery. This exquisite brush urged her to continue her search of the bathroom to which she found feminine shampoos, soaps, perfumes, and various other necessities, but there was no bobby pin to help her open the doors. A sense of confusion still overwhelming her Christine walked towards the cracked door in the bathroom into a large closet. The marble floors continued into the closet that had several large mirrors, an ottoman, several dressers, racks of beautiful clothes hanging, and rows of shoes all perfectly in her size. Christine drew in a breath, she was still dressed in her oversized t-shirt she had worn the night before. Brushing her hand against the hanging clothes Christine marveled at the closet. Who could ever need this many clothes? She hesitantly opened the top drawer of a dresser to find it contained expensive and stylish underwear. Picking up a soft pink bra with white tulle she almost fainted to see that it too was in her exact size. Horror filled her chest and seemed to leak into every inch of her body. She backed out of the closet and ran through the bathroom to the bedroom. Realizing there was no where safe for her to hide or run to she headed to the double doors and began to helpless twist the handle and bang on the door fear gripping her until she heard a deep, old voice with an english accent say "Miss I simply must insist you quit banging on the door for long enough that I may open it and bring you breakfast."


	3. Chapter 3

"Who are you?" Christine implored through the door, her voice trembling with fear.

"I am Simon, the butler. If you would please allow me to enter instead of viciously hammering the life out of these doors, I would be much obliged." Christine sheepishly stepped back from the door, and a click was heard before one of the huge wooden doors swung open. A presentable man dressed in slacks and a button up shirt in his late sixties stood on the other side. In one hand, a tray of warm food steamed enticingly. "Miss Daae," was all Simon said as he gave a curt nod and entered the room. The clack of his shoes could be heard as he crossed the polished wood floors towards a small antique, white wood table where he placed the tray of food.

Christine stood hesitantly on the other side of the room, her eyes darting between the unlocked door and Simon's back on the opposite side of the room. Taking a cautious step towards the doors on the pads of her feet, Christine attempted to slink out of the room.

"I would strongly advise against that Miss Daae," Simone said as his he slowly turned to face her. _Do or die_ were the only thoughts Christine had as her heart raced.

In an impulsive flash Christine sprinted out of the room and raced into an expansive hallway. The slick hardwood floors thumped beneath her feet as she raced away from the room she had awoken in. Tall white walls with ornate crown molding and base boards loomed on either side with no door evident. All Christine could see were two impressive dark oak doors at the end of the hall that she flew towards, her feet barely touching the ground. Slamming slightly into the doors, Christine panted while grasping a handle and frantically twisting. The doors didn't budge against her weight and the handle was fruitless. Whipping around, Christine's dark curls flipped haphazardly around her face as she searched back across the hallway looking for any other way out. Instead, she saw Simon standing in the middle of the hallway outside the room she had been in.

"You're a foolish girl, Christine," Simon said in a slightly sad voice as he approached her down the hallway.

Suddenly, Christine felt very small in her faded pajama shirt, her thin frame collapsing in towards itself. Simon grabbed her arm and led her back down the hallway, past more windows showing the same beautiful garden as the room she woke up in. In between windows brilliant paintings and artifacts filled the space. The house seemed to be a museum, but it did not impress Christine. All she could think of was Mama in their faded apartment. _Is she okay? Does she know I am gone?_

Ushered back into the airy, Victorian room by Simon, Christine cautiously approached the food. Looking to Simon for approval he nodded his head and Christine took a bite of fruit. It was delicious, or at least Christine was starving. Between slow bites of fruit she looked to Simon and asked the only thing she knew to, "Where am I?"

"In a remote part of the Northeast United States," Simon cleared his throat.

"Very descriptive," Christine retorted, "will you tell me why I'm here?"

"That would be something the Master would have to discuss with you himself." Simon shifted as if uncomfortable.

"You are aware that I was kidnapped, right?"

"Yes, Miss Daae," he replied softly.

"And you are comfortable with that, keeping me prisoner?" Christine angrily jabbed back.

Simon exhaled slowly, "Miss Daae, believe me when I say I am not comfortable with it, but also understand me when I say I will keep you here as long as the Master wishes it."

A tinge of helplessness filled Christine as her stomach sank to the ground. In a timid voice, almost afraid to ask Christine whispered "And who is the Master?"

"You will meet him soon enough, Miss Daae, when he decides it." Simon said approaching the breakfast table to clean up Christine's fruit dish.

"And when will-," Christine started to ask, but was stopped by Simon turning abruptly to her and saying "Enough. We are not going to play twenty questions all morning. Shockingly, I have other duties to attend to besides indulging you."

Christine meekly shrunk back into the plush chair she was sitting in while eating. Watching with careful eyes as Simon packed up her dish on the tray and started to exit the room. Walking away, Simon announced, "I would suggest washing that unruly mess on top of your head and putting on something fresh from your closet."

Simon left and the door swung to a swift close and Christine heard the unmistakable sound of the lock clicking in the quiet room.


	4. Chapter 4

**You get to meet Erik today readers!**

The resounding silence in the room hung heavy in the air. _Alone_. Christine had always cherished her alone time at home, between work and taking care of Mama, there was little alone time to be found. But here, in this expansive room, the aloneness crept under her skin. With a quick exhale Christine rose from the plush breakfast chair and approached the bathroom. Pushing the door open and stepping onto the cool marble floor, Christine approached the bath and turned the water on. Carefully removing her shirt and underwear, she lowered herself into the warm water. The after-effects of the chloroform seemed to melt away in the hot steam. A bottle of shampoo sat on the rim of the tub and Christine massaged the rose scented liquid into her messy hair.

 _Even the shampoo smells expensive_. Slowly sliding under the water, Christine held her breath. _What would happen if I didn't come up_? Her pale face surrounded by willowing hair was just below the surface. Her lungs began to protest, and still she held her breath. After what felt like a minute, she sat up and gasped for air. When she opened her eyes there was no sense of clarity, just the same bathroom as before. More importantly, the same question burned in her chest, _why am I here_. After conditioning Christine stepped out of the bath and stepped on the drain watching the water swirl away. A towel rack hung on the wall, so she quickly grabbed fluffy white towel and wrapped herself tightly. Walking towards the white marble counter, Christine grabbed the hairbrush. Engraved on the top of the brush was a beautiful C surrounded by roses. The brush made her nauseous to look at, as a reminder of the care and preparation of her kidnapper. When she thought about her kidnapper curiosity mixed with fear permeated from her core. _The master_. That's what Simon had called him anyway. _What kind of man was he? What does he want from me?_ Part of Christine was anxious to meet him in order to find answers, but the other part of her was filled with dread. She wasn't sure which emotion was more powerful.

Christine refused to go to the closet after her hair was brushed. She felt like Persephone, the pomegranate seeds were the luxurious clothing in the closet, and if she slipped them on she would be here forever. So, she pulled on her old pajama shirt, and began to braid her hair.

* * *

Weeks passed in the same routine. Christine would wake up and be fed breakfast by Simon, who would still not answer many questions, then she would take a bath, find a book, Simon would return with lunch, she would continue to read her book, Simon would return with dinner, and then she would sleep. Christine had begun her fourteenth book since she got here, when Simon walked in with her lunch.

"Miss Daae."

"I think I'm starting to go mad," Christine plainly stated in response.

Shooting her an exasperated look, Simon asked "And, pray tell me, why is that?"

"Let's see shall we. I have started talking to myself, been locked in the same room for weeks, and have only talked to one other person the entire time I've been prisoner here."

"Well then Miss Daae, I have excellent news for you."

Christine held her breath.

"You will not only leave this room today, but you will talk to another person as well." Simon announced.

"When?" Christine was sitting at the edge of her seat, with excitement in her eyes.

"Tonight after dinner. So please put on something other than the t-shirt you came here in that you insist I keep washing and return to you." Simon said in a taunting voice.

"Am I meeting _him_?"

"Yes, Miss Daae."

Christine quickly ate, and practically ran to her closet. She was terrified of meeting the man who kidnapped her, but the excitement of leaving the room was almost too much to handle. Running her hands of the soft clothes, she settled on an ivory sundress. The dress was simple, but she figured it would be deemed appropriate over her pajama shirt. She slipped on some brown sandals and began to unbraid her hair. The chocolate locks fell wavy over her shoulders and ended just below her breasts. Christine took this moment to examine herself in the mirror. Her soft pink lips were still full and her blue eyes were framed by long, black lashes. The only difference from her usual looks was her skin. It had become almost translucent after her weeks inside. Turning away from the mirror, she returned out to her bedroom and began to pace. She couldn't possibly read with the excitement and trepidation mixing in her stomach.

She had spent many hours envisioning her captor. In her mind he was stocky and well-built with brown hair, and a permanent scowl on his lips, maybe even a scar on his cheek. When the door opened at six for dinner, she was still pacing.

"You will wear a hole through the floor if you continue so Miss Daae." Simon's condescending voice caused Christine's head to turn in his direction.

A nervous laugh bubbled from Christine's lips.

Simon set down the tray of food, but Christine waved her hand and refused to eat.

"We won't leave until you eat, so…" Simon stopped talking as Christine flew into her seat and shoved food into her mouth at an alarming rate.

"Miss Daae, please follow me." Simon opened the door and escorted Christine into the hallway. Everything was exactly as Christine remembered from her brief escape stint. Expansive white walls with ornate sculptures and paintings all around. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent area. They approached the heavy double doors Christine had run to earlier, and Simon slowly turned the handle and opened the door for her.

Christine stepped inside and her mouth opened in awe. The most impressive library lay before her with 3 stories of books, a domed skylight, and antique furniture all around. Her eyes trained above on the books, Christine continued to walk forward on the dark green carpet in the room. The door closed with a small thud, and Christine was alone.

"Hello Christine." A powerful, rich tenor echoed across the room.


End file.
